Clarity
by 2BlckBlt
Summary: That moment when clarity hits, Booth has it while waiting for surgery.
1. Chapter 1

Hi all. While not new to , I am new to writing Bones fan fiction, so any input you have for me would be wonderful. Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Clarity. Why now, damnnit? Now that I am about to be cut open. And not just for my appendix or my tonsils. My brain. I am kind of partial to that part of me. Sure, it might not be on par with Bones' or even Sweets'. But it does well. I catch the bad guys with it. Correction, we catch the bad guys with it. Bones and me. The woman who I want to have my child, even, even if I am not there to help in the stimulation process, or whatever the hell she calls singing lullabies and reading, "Goodnight Moon," to our baby.

I really do want to have a kid with her. Preferably with her intellectual abilities and my emotional sense. But hey, if it works out the other way around, we have each had the other to practice on for four years. Hearing a three year old version of "I don't know what that means," could become rather endearing. Hearing it from her has. I do plan to make sure that my child knows the wonders Star Wars, or whatever it is 6 year old little girls like. No Bratz dolls though; I saw those things on the news. Scary. We'll start with board games, and I am sure I'll catch on.

I have to tell her this. Seeing the look on face when I told her back at the Hoover Building that I couldn't go through with this, it broke my heart. It went straight though the hallucinations and torn at my soul. Sometimes I swear it physically rips off piece of my soul whenever she is upset. And she does get upset, though she might try to deny it. That it is some sort of weakness, anthropologically speaking. Of course that is a load of crap, but she believes it. It doesn't matter; I just know that I'll do whatever I can to make Bones happy.

She took to Nellie Holt awfully fast, and Nellie seemed to like her too. I was surprised. I shouldn't have been, but I was. Okay, maybe I had every right to be, but I still feel a little guilty about it. I mean she was a natural with Andy, but all that talk about not wanting children; I did have a right to be concerned, didn't I? Okay, then why the hell do I feel so guilty about it?

I know why. I hate myself for having even a smidgen of doubt about Bones. And I have had more than that lately. I have treated her like she had grown a second head for wanting a child. No, I treated her like she had grown a second head because of the way she had decided to go about having children. She just had to tell me in Sweets office. She couldn't have waited till we were in the truck, or better yet, at one of our apartments? And going on and on about my…stuff, in front of half the law enforcement officers in DC? I deserve to be slightly pissed. But I'm not. Maybe still slightly incredulous, but not angry. Lord knows I can never stay mad at her long. We had better not have a daughter; I can only imagine how deep I'd be in then. As if I can be any more so than I am now.

But I have to tell Bones. She has to know that we are going to have a baby. One way or another. Sure, I'd prefer to do it the way God intended, but if Bones wants to do this the Squint way—so be it. She'll be back from talking to our team of squints soon. I'll tell her then.

Lord, please give me the strength do to what I am about to…

"Your surgery should take about two hours." Brennan chose that moment to make her appearance.


	2. Chapter 2

I am back, but from a new location. I moved! We are going AU from here on in the story.

From Last Time:

Sure, I'd prefer to do it the way God intended, but if Bones wants to do this the Squint way—so be it. She'll be back from talking to our team of squints soon. I'll tell her then.

Lord, please give me the strength do to what I am about to…

"Your surgery should take about two hours." Brennan chose that moment to make her appearance.

On With The Story:

Booth gulped, then got it together and managed a response. "Two hours? That has to be good. I would have though it would take a lot longer to cut up a person's brains. That must mean mine isn't in as bad shape as I thought."

Brennan sensed, by some miracle, that Booth was in need of reassurance, perhaps because it was Booth, and told him sparing him squint jargon about lobes and Brodmann areas, "You should come out of the surgery well Booth. The tumor doesn't seem to have spread so they should be able to completely remove it."

"Good. Good. That's good."

_No, this isn't good at all. Brain surgery can't be good. They are cutting open my damn brain._

"So you've said." For second time in as many minutes Booth was not alright, however this time she was unsure of what to say to help. "Would you like some pudding?"

Booth laughed out loud. "No Bones, I don't want pudding at the moment. Besides you know I can't eat just before going under anesthesia."

_Bones is really more shaken up than she will admit to. Is that a bad sign about the surgery? But a good sign for us? That she really cares? Damnnit! Why can I never get a good read on her feelings? The one person who I really need understand, and nothing!_

"Yes, of course." Brennan felt inept, she wasn't often corrected. To top it off she still didn't know how to help Booth.

"How…Do you find the staff here to be adequate?"

_That isn't what she was going to ask me. What was she going to ask me? How…what? How am…_

"I going to be an Agent with part of my brain missing?"

"Booth, they are taking out the tumor, not your Frontal Lobe. You'll still be able to make executive decisions with the same authority you always have. In fact it will probably be easier than it has been lately because you won't have competing voices telling you what to do."

"You choose to learn sarcasm _now_ Bones? When I am about to be turned into something from a medical drama. FBI Agent comes in to the hospital seeing a cartoon character and is madly in love with his beautiful partner. Stay tuned on this episode of General Hospital or Grey's Anatomy."

_S-H-I-T._

"I don't know—you think I'm beautiful?"

_Okay. This I can recover from. She can know that I think she is beautiful. Breathtaking actually. But let's not let not let it go to her head. Enough going on up there already. _

"Yeah Bones, I think you're breathtaking."

_Okay. That didn't come out quite the way I wanted it to._

'Why?" Bones questioned seriously.

"Com'on. Are you really unaware of how everyman stops dead in his tracks when you enter a room?"

"If that were true we would be even busier than we already are."

"It's an expression Bones. It means…never mind." Bones' lack of knowledge of basic colloquialisms never ceased to amaze him.

"Okay, Mr. Booth," a large man walked in to the room in a nurses uniform, "Are you ready for surgery?'

_Damn. Of all the nurses here I get Bulldog, the male nurse. Not that it matters. The only woman I want is Bones._

"Let's do it." Booth agreed.

_Show no fear._

"Bones? Will you do something for me?" Booth asked hopefully.

"Of course, Booth." Bones knew she would do what Booth asked.

"Light a candle for me. You don't have to pray. Can you do that for me?"

"I don't have to pray? Because I don't believe in---"

"I know, Bones. And you don't have to pray." Booth cut her off. Now of all times he could not handle a diatribe against the one whose life he was putting his hands in.

"Then yes. I'd be happy to."


	3. Chapter 3

This chapter is from Brennan's perspective. Enjoy!

-From Last Time_

"Light a candle for me. You don't have to pray. Can you do that for me?"

"I don't have to pray? Because I don't believe in---"

"I know, Bones. And you don't have to pray." Booth cut her off. Now of all times he could not handle a diatribe against the one whose life he was putting his hands in.

"Then yes. I'd be happy to."

-On With The Story-

The doctors are operating on his cerebellum; while I am lighting this candle in the chapel. Booth never wants me anywhere near a Church. Why now? Because he thinks he might die. That's why. He wants to be sure that he will make it though the surgery safely, or at least pass on to whatever he considers heaven to be if he doesn't make it. That's the odd thing about people like Booth. They forget their own religion. Only their so called martyrs are, according to their faith, taken straight to heaven. I believe that if you are going to believe in something, you must accept even the parts you don't like.

But…I will put that aside for Booth right now. He seems to need his faith. After all, the one of the purposes of religion, like journalism, is to comfort the afflicted. Booth is clearly afflicted right now.

I wish he could turn to me. I know I am not his God. I don't want to be. I don't be to be the being held responsible for the sun rising every morning or…for Booth having a tumor. But I want to be the person who will make him smile when the surgery is over and he is doped up on morphine. And I want to be able to help him around his apartment, even when he argues about how it should be him carrying the heavy stuff, opening doors, doing all those things that have helped define us over the years. Because I want him to be able to do them again.

I want to stand toe to toe and pick a fight over something stupid. Then I want to poke him in the chest and get a rise out of him, the way I know only I can. There is no point in denying it. It is exhilarating. I can feel my sympathetic nervous system react. My heart rate increases and my stomach tells me it has fireflies in it. The only person who makes me feel this way is Booth. Do I give him fireflies?

This is one of those rare times when I wish I were a medical doctor. I am good with bones. Actually I am the best. Ask anyone in the field. But all my knowledge of the skeletal system, various cultures and my newly gained insight into the criminal mindset will not help Booth. Right now what Booth needs is the best neurosurgeon I can find. I am not used to not being the best person to help Booth. I am not entirely comfortable with this feeling. Actually I am not comfortable with it all.

When Booth and I were burying Ripley, he told me to speak from my heart, to the universe. That seems like appropriate advice for this scenario as well.

"I want Booth back. I want him back so he can be a father for Parker, but I am selfish too. I want him back for me as well. I want him to be my partner. I need him to show up at my door at ungodly hours with coffee to take me to a crime scene on a Saturday morning when I had planned on sleeping in and then writing the next chapter of my novel. The one my editors had been bugging me to get to them for the past three weeks. And I need him to interrupt my dates, because I really don't want to be going on dates with anyone but him. So I date, "Coldplay," and whomever else I can find to try to distract myself. But all along I wait for him to charge in with his late-breaking news. One day maybe he'll ask me for a date himself, one he doesn't have to charge into interrupt. So I need Booth back. So we can be us, and then work on being more than us. "

"Excuse me," the same nurse from before interrupted Brennan, "You're Dr. Brennan, right?"

"Yes, has my partner's surgery concluded?"

"Yes it has. I can take you to the room he'll be brought to as soon as he is out of recovery. By the way, my name is Thomas; let me know if I can help you or Mr. Booth."

"Thank-you Thomas," Brennan replied as they made their way to hospital room that would soon be occupied by a drowsy Special Agent.

-Reviews are my calorie-free version of a Peanut-Butter Twix!-


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